Wicked Laird (Brethren of Stone 2)

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Which led her to her next aching thought. The boat. She’d borrowed it from her neighbor, Mr. McLaren, with the assurance that she could manage it. She and Ailean had run out of meat and they had no money to purchase more.

She’d meant to fish for their dinner. Truth be told, at twelve, Ailean would have done a better job. He was a better fisherman and sailor but he’d had a job turning the fields for one of the local farmers. They couldn’t give up the income and so she’d gone, hoping to fill their stomachs until he was paid at the end of the week.

But now…now she’d ruined the boat. How would they even begin to pay back Mr. McLaren? He was not a man to forgive such a debt and couldn’t afford to even if he were inclined.

“What’s the matter?” Blair asked, his gaze narrowing.

She looked at him, travelling her gaze up and down his torso. The man was a statue of perfection. Muscles rippling down to his abdomen and a sprinkling of hair across his chest that tapered down his waist and disappeared into his breeches. “It’s…It’s nothing.” She took a breath trying to clear her now-muddled mind.

“It didn’t sound like nothing.”

A lump lodged in her throat and her heart ached. For just a moment she wished she could burrow back into his chest. It had made her feel safe in a world that had become so harsh since their father had passed.

Elle swallowed hard, willing herself to move past the pain of the loss. She owed him some sort of explanation after what he’d done for her today. “I wrecked my neighbor’s boat.”

He wrapped a blanket about his shoulders and holding it together, she watched his kilt drop to the floor. For some reason her mouth went completely dry.

“Neighbor’s?” His dark eyes penetrated into her. “Not yer father’s?”

“My father is gone.” She couldn’t look at him any longer. His gaze made her insides flop and her breath catch. “Only me and my brother remain.”

He tossed himself into the other chair. “How old is yer brother?”

She tried to understand the question but as she turned back to him, she’d been mesmerized by the sight of his legs, so muscular and masculine. “What?”

“Is he old enough to help me pull up the boat when the tide goes out?” Blair had raised his eyebrows with each word. He must think her daft. “Or do we need more help from the village?”

“He’s twelve.” She shook her head a little to clear her mind. “He’s very strong for his age but I don’t know if the two of you could pull out the boat on your own.”

He grunted. “Know anyone else who could help?”

She clenched her teeth. After the death of her father, she’d gone around asking friends and neighbors for food or coin. She didn’t know how to provide for her brother on her own. Many were sympathetic but they had so little of their own, they had had nothing extra to give. Only one man had been willing, Malcom McKenzie. He was twenty years her senior and the landlord for several crofts, one of which her father had been a tenant. Malcom had offered to take them both in exchange for Elle’s hand in marriage. Even thinking back on it now made her nauseous. His help had come with a hefty price. One she didn’t know if she’d ever recover from. “The boys in the cottage next door might help provided I make them haggis in exchange for their labor.”

“Yer going to make them pudding, with yer foot like that?” His brows drew together and his mouth turned down. “You need a doctor, not a cooking assignment.”

What she needed was to get that boat back to Mr. McLaren, then find a way to get them food for dinner. The fish she’d caught were sure to be gone now. She also had to leave this cottage as soon as possible. While Blair was a great deal more handsome than Malcolm had been, she didn’t want a man telling her what was good for her ever again. Once they started doing that, they were free to take liberties. She’d not allow herself to be trapped again. “I can’t afford a doctor nor can I get anyone to help me without providing something in return. It isn’t how it’s done.” At least not for her. She still wasn’t sure how she’d pay Blair back for his help today but she’d find a way.

“Where is the cottage where I’ll find yer brother?” He stood then and moved closer to the fire, His movements held a grace that was mesmerizing.

“He’s out at Derby’s croft and so are the other boys.” She started to stand too. Her ankle hurt like the devil but it would hold her.

He was next her in a flash. “Ye shouldnae be standin’.”

“I’ll have tae borrow the ingredients. I don’t know how yet, but I will pay ye back. For all of it.”

“Sit back down,” he grunted. “Let me at least look at yer ankle.”

She did as she was told. There was a part deep inside her that listened to a man who was so much larger. A man who could hurt her if he chose. But she hated herself for yielding.

With gentle fingers, he lifted the limb. “Swelling isn’t too bad. It’s going to be black and blue for a while though.” He straightened. “I’ll bring the boys here and I’ll tempt them with something other than haggis. We’ll discuss how ye can pay me back later.” She saw his eyes sweep down her bare legs and heat infused her cheeks. “In the meantime, I’ll lay yer clothes in front of the fire. Ye are to sit and rest.”

He disappeared into the one room with a door and then reappeared fully dressed. Tossing her a fresh shirt, he said, “Ye can put this on while yers dries. I won’t be gone long.”

Then he was gone. In the quiet of the cottage, she was left to wonder what would happen to the boat, how she would feed them tonight and, especially important, what would she owe Blair Sinclair. The only thing she had left was her virtue, and she’d damned if she’d trade it for anything now. Her conviction did little to answer the question of how would she repay him.

Chapter Three